Our Final Hour
by Timeko
Summary: Given the new update in GW2, and since me and my friends are probably going to move on to TESO, most of us have decided to end our role plays. This is my story on it involving my sylvari elementalist, Nympheadora. Rated T for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

The sky was unfamiliar. Angry. It felt wrong. The air itself was sick with death, and the clouds reflected the war that was tearing the city apart in a thick, crimson hue. It was the very essence of plague, and it was getting stronger by the second. This was strange to her, frightening even. For once, the doors were shut. The trees were silent. The birds had vanished. It was as if the world had enveloped itself in agony. It all happened so quickly, the pounding of her head had to catch up with the tempo of the shaking earth as it cried out. _'No..that's not nature..those are people.._real _people..' _The nymph sat up, wincing as a sharp tingling sensation ran down into her legs. Looking down, she tried not to panic, instead doubling over in pain. Her feet were stuck. The leafy skirt that draped over her was now crimped, and ripped in some places. A forceful pull gathered nothing but aching limbs, the rubble she was trapped under not giving way at all. A whimper escaped her, hope fleeting from her as she tried a second time with no triumph. _She_ was stuck. Pushing her arms outward, she tried to reach for leverage, instead coming across a horrific discovery. 'He's..' The man's face was familiar. She'd sold her unwanted ore and wood to him before in exchange for a low amount of coin. He was one of the refugees from the Shiverpeaks. His cold, stern face held no light of life at all underneath all that black fuzz. His cheeks no longer held that jubilant red glow. He was far gone. Not more than two feet away, another. A strong Norn woman with what looked to be the same fate. The trader's forum had collapsed, and from the looks of it, claimed a few lives as well. As if that wasn't the worst of the carnage, screams could be heard from every direction. Nympheadora dropped her head against her arms, resting her upper body. For the first time in her life, she felt alone. Very alone.

Another voice broke through the decay. It was strong, and desperate, calling out into the abyss of smoke and ruin. "This is the Trader's Forum Search and Rescue Squad. Is anyone out there?" It echoed, decibels dulled by the thickness of the pollution. Again it called, this time with a sense of urgency. "Trader's Forum Search and Rescue. Is anyone alive out there?" Nothing. Nothing but silence was returned. The same voice was muffled slightly, what seemed to be barking orders. Nympheadora tilted her head upward, trying to see amidst the wreckage and getting nothing but smoke. She couldn't find her voice. The putrid air had claimed it. Trying once more, she squeaked, uttering a small noise. It was progress. She tried again, more forcefully. It felt as though a weight the size of a dolyak was crushing her throat. Once more, she tried – then hesitated. A large airship hovered over, dropping off a few combatants. Something inside her told her these people weren't friendly. They dropped onto the dusty floor outside the front of what used to be the trader's forum, and were slowly making their way towards the mess. Weapons were in hand. Strange weapons. They looked nothing like the Lionguard. The voice from before grew more desperate, relaying the same message again, yet Nym held her attention on these newcomers. She knew if she yelled, these people would find her before they did. And they were getting closer. Reluctantly, she grabbed the closest corpse – the man she used to call a friend – and pulled his body over herself. If they thought she was dead, they wouldn't bother looking this way. All this was riding on the hope that the newcomers would leave and that the Lionguard would come soon. With this newly found hope, she swallowed, laying as still and as quietly as she could. She could feel her fronts wilting under all the heat and decay. Not too long after she heard their booming footsteps echo through the wood floor, the voice sent out a message that completely shattered all remnants of hope the sylvari had left. "Pull out. Pull out. There are no more survivors. The Miasma is getting worse. I repeat, all Lionguard report to the gates immediately. The gates are being destroyed in T minus one minute. I repeat, evacuate immediately." Those words trapped themselves in her mind as she stared at this man's lifeless body. The fact remained that soon she'd be a corpse like the rest of them. That she wasn't getting out. Swallowing again, she closed her eyes, silent tears streaming down the soft teal petals that made up her cheeks. She was going to die here.

Trembling, she tried so very hard to remain as still as possible while humming in her head. The utter sense of seclusion and hopelessness was starting to take its toll.

_'And the bird sang to the tree_

_ whipper wee whipper wee,_

_ You can not fly as high as me..'_

The keep was busy. Busier than usual. With all the attacks as of late, one would figure the factions as a whole would be utter chaos, but this. This was pure anarchy. A roaring crowd was buzzing around anxiously between relief tents, in and out of asura gates that seemed to have sprung up almost over night. A few vigil leaders were going around with fountain pens and scrolls in hand, catching witness details and consoling the victims. Surprisingly this was only a small fraction of the people that lived in Lion's Arch. The rest were either dead or missing. The list of priority went from the Priory, to the Whispers agents, to the Vigil soldiers and everyone else. While a lot of their research had gone up in flames, it was safe to say most if not all of the scholars made it out alive – or so they thought.

The male sylvari parted the crowd, his fern hound following as close to his heels as physically possible. He'd never seen such a crowd on the Vigil's doorstep, not since the attack on the Queen's Pavilion. The only thing he knew was that the gates to Lion's Arch had been sealed, and Lionguard were heavily present at guarding each one. Spotting another friend, he attempted to wave him down but to no avail did the pirate look up. Meihem scowled, scratching the back of his head in a moment's thought, hatching an idea. Leaning towards the hound, he whispered to his partner, who then dipped his muzzle in understanding and took off. The beast bounded towards the pirate, who was negotiating with a mildly disgruntled Charr about an exchange of some coin for a few pilfered belongings. Once there, the jaws locked on to a shining metal flask that hung at his belt, at which point the hound doubled back to his master with the pirate following.

"Cmere, ye damned mutt!" he shouted, almost tripping over people in his wake as the wolf slipped between the crowd. Finally, it stopped. "Gotcha!" As he went to grab the flask, a gloved hand caught it at the same time, bringing it up to a rather smug grin. The sylvari pirate wiped his forehead, holding back a haughty laugh. "Well, if't isn't Deputy Do-Right.." His bark-layered face narrowed into a spiteful glare. "To wot do I owe the honor for this snatching o' my rum?" he inquired, eying the beast with a displeased glower.

Meihem only grinned in return, ignoring the petty names. As the pirate went to snatch back his treasure, he simply pulled it further past his head. "Ah, a question – if you will." The ranger held a stern face, despite his young, childish antics.

"Ye? Wot? I'm 'earin the end o' my patience, twig." The pirate growled, bark brows furrowing with aggravation. Stopping a moment, he noticed something odd with the scene. The little sylvan lass that clung to his backside was missing. Throwing out a guess, his sneer twisted into a mockingly sincere smile. "Did ye lose somethin' mate?"

The ranger narrowed his eyes. "If you're referring to Nym, I haven't seen her. And with this commotion, it's starting to worry me.." Handing the flask back to him, his features changed from defensive to inquisitive. "What's going on, Demitri?"

It wasn't long before the flask was opened with him taking a few gulps, almost choking at the question. "By the Tree, where 'ave you been?" He wiped his mouth as he coughed, forcing the rum out of his windpipe. "Lion's Arch was raided by Scarlet and 'er band o' jumble. The city don't exist no more..and neither do most o' the peoples n'it, fer that matter.." He grumbled, taking another long swig of his flask.

"What?" Meihem asked in disbelief, his eyes widening as he slowly started to realize. This wasn't just a gathering. It was a refugee camp. Taking another quick look-over, he didn't see Nym. Demitri was right after all, even if he didn't want to admit it. Nympheadora had made it a custom to be as close as possible during this sort of thing, yet now she was no where to be found. She hadn't responded to his letter about the war. It wasn't like her at all. Regaining his train of thought, he turned to Demitri. "Dem, have you see Nympheadora anywhere? Did she come in with the other priory scholars?"

The pirate shook his head, recapping his flask and slipping it onto his belt. "Aye, haven' seen the wee lass since after the war. Said she got stationed in Lion's Arch to study dat drill o' somethin'.." Demitri studied the sylvari's face. He could almost feel the sense of dread creeping into his subconscious. His conscience told him he hadn't really helped with stemming his worries. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head and patted his palm to the male's back. "C'mon lad. If she be anywhere, it'd most likely be at the Priory 'eadquarters.." Demitri turned, pointing out over the white heads of the tents to a hot air balloon that was ready for departure. "There be our ride, straight to Lornar's Pass."

"Then let's go." Meihem demanded, with out a second's thought. A slow feeling a dread was starting to fill his mind. _'Stop worrying, she's alright..don't assume the worst..'_ His mind was trying hard to convince him despite all the things running through it. This was going to be a long balloon ride.

The two men remained quiet. Demitri kept to himself out of respect, while Meihem sat contemplating. His tight ponytail pushed against the side of the basked as he closed his eyes, with his back leaning against it. The worrying made the trip all the more monotonous. What if she wasn't there? What if she was still in Lion's Arch? Dare he say it, what if she was a victim. He shook his head, as if trying to shake the notions from him. Letting out a long breath, he smiled, humming to try and calm his nerves.

'_And the tree sang to the bird, _

_ That is where you're wrong, I've heard,_

_ For my dreams will always soar_

_ higher than any bird has ever flown before..'_


	2. Chapter 2

The Priory headquarters was just as busy as the Vigil Keep, with all sorts of people bustling about. Scholars and citizens alike were moving between tents with supplies, making sure the refugees were settling in and counting their numbers. A small board outside the Priory camp listed the number of saved to missing. The numbers were staggering. Between all the factions, it looked as though only a quarter of the city had made it out alive in certainty, and a few thousand were still mixed in with the chaos. Amongst the chatter, Meihem heard the familiar booming orders from the Lionguard who stood not too far away from the gate between the snow-dusted mountain peaks.

"This area is now under lock down. Please stand clear of the gate as we are still evacuating. All Lionguard personnel are to report to their posts ASAP!" The humdrum tone held stern and forceful, making itself as loud and clear as possible. This was a state of emergency, after all. Despite the chaos, Meihem and his party cut their way through the jumbled mass upon arrival in a bee line to the hallowed halls of the Durmand Priory. Scholars went by every which way, fighting to make sense of the lawlessness state of their outpost. They were never one for disorganization, and this incident had them at a wit's end with all the disarray. The worry started to settle in with each passing scholar and novice. Nym was nowhere to be found. Meihem felt a knot curl in the pit of his stomach, forcing the embers of his hope to keep burning. Maybe one of them knew something. It was going to be a hard task to rope one down long enough to get answers, but he had to try.

He spotted a fellow sylvari, the brightness of her leaves sticking out like a sore thumb against the gray iridescence of Lornar's winter setting. "Excuse me!" He called out, getting closer. There was an oddness about it. Like he faintly knew her from somewhere, but couldn't recall the time or place. As the tempered rose whirled around, he stopped abruptly, his face dropping a few shades lighter. "You.." He murmured, his face suddenly twitching with borderline hatred.

The female only took one look of him then turned up her nose, her bright orange eyes flashing with discontent. "Wonderful. As if I didn't have enough to deal with, trouble comes to find me.." Slapping the book in her hands shut with a cogent clap, she turned and started walking down the front hall evading the male sylvari and his company like the plague. Much to her displeasure, they bounded off towards her. "Don't you people have anyone else to bother? The war's over. Go save a puppy, tend to your priestess or something and leave me to my work, can't you see I'm up to my fronds in relief efforts?!"

"Oh? Given your vanity I hadn't taken you for someone that cared about anything other than yourself." Meihem growled in rebuttal, pushing through the crowds after her in a desperate attempt to keep up with the tiny female illusionist.

The sylvari snorted in laughter. "You say that like I actually do care about the carnage in Lion's Arch. My, my..aren't _we_ foolish.." Her pace quickened, making for one of the archways leading to the inside of the base.

"Well you do put on a masterful performance –" Before she could disappear into the labyrinth under the first floor, he had jumped in between herself and the door. "Please, this is important." The urgency and dejection he displayed caused her to pay slightly more attention.

A soft alabaster hand moved up to wipe the soot-tinted fatigue lingering in her face as she sighed, shaking her head. Looking back and forth, she scanned the floor briskly before bringing them out of the archway and off to the side. "I'm listening."

"Nym. Have you seen her? Did she come in with the other Scholars?" His voice was calm, yet laced with frantic worry.

The curling leaves the split as her eyebrow line crunched, leaving her looking a little confused. "Nym..Nym. Sorry doesn't ring a bell." She stated simply, moving to flee before being stopped short by the towering pirate.

Demitri couldn't hold back the grin, having wacthed the entire scene play out. He'd seen this before. They weren't dealing with just any Priory Scholar. This happened to be one of the few renowned illusionists of their time, and dare he say it, on the same par of mastery as Duchess Faolain in her craft. Not to mention, with just as much wickedness as a blackberry bush. "C'mon Nil..give the man the infermation 'e wants. Wot 'arm could it possibly do yeh?"

Those pale orange eyes rolled as she grumbled something under her breath. She didn't want to let on that she knew this man. The bootlegging of alcohol past Priory doors wouldn't have been considered favorable given her status. And in the Priory, status was important. It just had to be the pirate, of all people to show up. Casting a heavy sigh, she opened the rather large textbook as she peeled it from her side, flipping through the pages. "Let's see..Nym..Nymeria, Nymonae, Ah! Nympheadora. Explorer, Sylvari elementalist, age thirteen weeks, and currently.." Narrowing her eyes, she tried to make use of the fine print that was slightly smudged from being written so quickly. "Missing. It looks as though she was the only other one out of her research team to not make it out of the city, aside from what looks to be a male Norn. There. Can I go now?" She asked, clapping the book shut.

"Oh no, lass. I'm reckonin' ye be owin' me a few favors now, come ta think of it.." The pirate rubbed the waxy stubs on his chin, his thin bark curling into a smirk. "And it's time ye paid the piper."

Niladriel stared at him blankly, her complexion paling as if she'd seen a ghost. "I'm sorry..what?" The tiny sylvari started shaking her head in disbelief, anger rising by the second. "EXC –" She stopped, gathering herself and quelling her temper before she spoke once more. People had looked their way at her outburst, at which time she shot them a polite apologetic smile before it faded quickly into a searing scowl. "Excuse me, do you mean to tell me you are blackmailing me into running with you on this little escapade through a war zone which has already claimed a few hundred thousand? Let's be practical now, shall we? If she's not out now then there's no hope. I'd suggest you both stay out as well or you will end up with the same fate! Now if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than waste my time w–"

"Alright, go on then. I'll just uh, leave those receipts for yer rum on Steward Gixx's desk upon m'leave..I'm sure he'll be gettin' a kick out of one o' his most favored arcanists bein' a bit fond of illegal alcohol..C'mon Meihem, let's go." Demitri stared the female down, still holding that same devilish smirk as he sifted a hand into a hidden chest pocket, pulling out a clump of tiny slips. It only fueled his amusement as her eyes widened at the multitude of the slips. He could feel the hatred radiating from her as he nodded, shaking the stack as it was latched between his middle and pointer fingers.

She waited a moment, her conscience fighting with her better judgment. At this point, it didn't matter. She was either ruined, or dead. Teeth clamped together to fight back the irrefutable anger that she ever so wanted to barrage him with, yet she kept silent. Instead, heaving another long and heavy sigh. "Do you two even have a plan at least?" She inquired, her arms latched and laced themselves firmly underneath her leafy bosom.

Demitri went to combat that accusative question, when Meihem stepped in before he could make the situation worse. She was willing to help now, and they at least owed it to her to be sincere. They were no longer enemies. It was time to put away the petty bitterness. "No, but with you being one of the best mesmers in the Priory, we could desperately use your help. Please." Meihem tried to remain as straightforward as he could, while still holding strong. Mesmers were masters of illusion and trickery. There had to be something, and if there was, this sylvari was a blessing in disguise. Even if she didn't want to believe it.

Niladriel's eyes drifted shut, her head shaking in a loss for words. "As I thought..follow me." With no time to explain just how foolish this whole adventure seemed, she started towards the relief camp at a spry pace. "Getting in to the city will be enough of a challenge, but we're going to need some way of staying in communication with each other as all warp stations have been shut down. From what I've heard, power crystals were ruptured in the attack so there will be no quick way out of the city. In and out, no detours, or..we're aren't making it out." It was as if a switch had changed from bitter to demanding. The sylvari led them back to the hot air balloon, dropping off a few things at one of the relief tents and picking up a basic wooden staff, a sword that pulsated with a golden pattern, and what looked to be a blade that reflected the very essence of the night sky. Nonchalantly hoisting the blade over her shoulder, it latched to her back. An aura surrounded her, the same color as the blade. The two men stared at her in awe, unknowing if she knew about the effects of the weapon or if she was just ignoring it. With the sword and focus now hanging at her sides, she took the staff in hand, using it like a walking stick. She continued her briefing, opening the tiny gate that led to the balloon's hatch. "We will fly to Bloodtide Coast. The outpost there isn't that heavily guarded, and furthermore..there's someone there that could help us.." She was taken aback at the two of them still being awestruck, at which she just shook her head. "Shall we?" Motioning towards the entrance, they funneled inside and were soon to be off, sailing across the snow-capped peaks towards the much warmer side of Maguuma.


	3. Chapter 3

An explosion went off not too far from the camp's shoreline, as a little ball of smoke shot out in a direction and crashed into the sand. Coughing came from the crater as the tiny asura climbed out of his sand tomb, dusting himself off. Kennec removed his goggles, waving a hand to block the rest of the smoke from getting anymore in his puny lungs. The rings around his eyes indicated that the smoke had badly stained his skin, turning it jet black aside from its normal chocolate color. "Well, that was inconvenient." He growled, vigorously shaking the ash from his silver hair. Waddling over to a lone table that now erupted in bright green flames, he quickly took out what looked to be an oval-shaped metal ball. With a turn and a few taps, it lit up, glowing fiercely with a bright blue hue. After a moment of hissing, it whirled and shot out a type of gas that extinguished the flames instantly. Irritated, the asura snatched the ball and slipped it back into his pocket, letting out a fitful sigh. "This effluvium is more complex than I imagined, or I suppose the insufflation system is just not compatible with withstanding certain levels of contagion and its overriding the suflix compacitor before it can even permeate the sifter.." A swift scratch behind one of his long ears flipped his goggles back down as he gathered his tools and went back to work.

"Kennec?" Niladriel's melodious call echoed as far as it could, battling against the clanging of steel and stone. The bustling of the encampment made it all the more difficult. She called once more, spotting an interesting asuran set-up littered with a few craters here and there. The tent alone was smoking like a kiln. Rounding the corner, she stepped carefully through the sand and spotted the Lilliputian bent over a lab table hard at work, as usual. "Kennec, thank goodness–"

"Whatever it is, I'm busy! Ratiocination eludes me at how you people can't seem to comprehend the homogeneity of needing one's own space! And further more – Oh, m'lady.." Upon turning his shoulder, his ears perked as he quickly knelt in respect towards the nymph, ignoring the riffraff behind her. Sliding off his gloves with a quick tug, he let them drop to the ground as he tottered over to her. With a quick dusting of his hands and the removing of his goggles, he gently took one of her claw-like hands into his and planted a kiss atop it, having to make her bend slightly in the process. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your – this – company?" He hesitated as he took a glance to the two rough-looking male sylvari behind her, taking note of the large fern hound that bounded in with them. It was twice his size, and much to his displeasure, it looked famished.

"We need a favor.." The sylvari stated simply, teeth raking against her bottom lip as she constructed his reaction in her head.

"YOU'RE PLANNING WHAT?!" His eyes widened in size upon hearing the half-baked plan they intend to endure. Shaking his head in disbelief, he threw himself back into the hovering chair. "You can't be serious! This scheme is preposterous! Do you have any intimation at what shape the city is in at the moment? Many have gone in and I can tell you very few have returned! And not in any good of shape I can assure you!" Despite his tiny size, the asura made a live, boisterous point. The city no longer existed as a city. It was now a war zone, and a deadly one at that. The fumes alone had claimed many, and the number was slowly growing. Rounding on the ranger and the ring leader of the fiasco, he narrowed his yellow eyes. "Tell me boy, is this female your mate? Or rather, 'dearheart'? Never can tell with these plant types and their vocabulary, they seem to have a word for everything.."

Meihem stared, caught off guard by the question. "I, uh, no. No. I mean, not to my knowledge. Actually – wait, how would I _not_ know..I mean, ugh..you know what I mean!" The rest of them scanned him closely, as if waiting for him to continue. Even the hound pointed his snout towards him, head tilted but black eyes reading a look of uncertainty with his master. Clearing his throat, his expression returned to the stoic veil he held throughout the remainder of the conversation. "The point is, I'm not leaving her behind..dearheart or not."

The air of a sage hung in the asura's features as he sat and stroked his balding, wrinkled chin. "Interesting. Very interesting. Fine. I'll help you, but I hope you understand I can not accompany you.." He said, hopping from his chair and wobbling over to the table. Taking in a deep sigh, he slipped a box out from underneath the table and started rummaging through it. "..Nor am I responsible for your fate."

The three shook their heads in understanding as they watched the asura gather what looked to be circlets. With a few taps, the stone in the centerpiece lit up on each one as he began handing them out. "These are short-distance communication devices. When I say short distance, I mean a few hundred feet. All you have to do is talk, and the waves are then transmuted into the stones which trap and radiate the thought so that the others wearing the circlets can hear. Was meant to be a tool for war, yet, they are a bit fragile so you will have to be extremely careful.." Walking back over to the table, he stared at his work for a long minute, contemplating before finally giving in to his own conscience. "And this.." He said, holding up what looked to be an aqua breather mixed with a gas mask. "This I've been working on since the attack..it is designed to help control the miasma levels entering the respiratory system, but I only have one so far.." He looked between the three, handing it off to the group with the slightest bit of hesitation. "The problem is..the miasma is incredibly potent. So far, at the most lethal dose it has exploded. I think it is due to an overloading core but I'm not quite sure myself..mind you, if you do use it..just know that you only have a limited time, so I'd suggest emergency-basis only.." Before he let go while watching the ranger take it, he looked upon him once more. "Are you sure you want to do this? Risk your life for another, with a certainty of death?" The asura couldn't help but pry, as he felt there was more to this ranger than what seemed.

Meihem's hand lingered on the device, something in him wrapping his fingers around it in confidence, in defiance of this asura's constant skepticism. Taking it, he nodded slowly and surely, without any hint or preview of dubiety. "Yes. After all, she would do the same for me.." His gaze locked on the asura, the assurance in his tone thick with sincerity.

A grin curled the wrinkles in the halfling's face at the answer. "As I thought. Who are we without the people behind us? I wish you luck, my boy, you and your lady both.."

_There she stood, as plain as day. He could reach out and grab her if he wanted. A soft breeze passed with the aroma of maturing honeysuckle blooms mixed with the soft tenderness of the countryside. They had escaped the fire, the ruin. The chaos remained absent. All that could be seen for miles was a vast sea of golden wheat, and a glittering ocean view that mirrored the setting sun. "Nym–" He began before a teal finger met with his lips. _

_ "D'you hear it?" She beamed, staring into the distant horizon. A gentle smile hung on her features. _

_ Meihem gawked at her in a sense of bewilderment, joining her gaze. He heard nothing. Nothing but the sound of gust whistling through the flora – and a thump. A thump that was getting louder and heavier, like a heartbeat that belonged to a giant. Narrowing a brow, he turned back to her only to come face to face with the nymph. A frightened yet eerie emptiness had replaced the smile, her once-bright amber eyes now dulled and void of life. _

_ "He's coming.."_

_ "What's co–"_

_ Before he could finish, a great pair of monstrous jaws crashed through the earth, wielding long, jagged ivory fangs three times as big as any building he'd ever seen. The sky had changed in an instant. The soft heavenly glow from the sunset now boiling in a crimson fury. He watched as the mouth submerged into a seemingly endless pit. Looking down, he saw nothingness, until a pair of glowing eyes pierced the darkness and rushed him. He prepared for the sting of teeth ripping at his oaken hide.._

"Lad?" Demitri hovered over the ranger, who'd been tossing and turning in his sleep ever since they left the little landing behind Sorrowful Sound. Waves crashed against the ship, shaking the dream from him. The feeling hung in his gut, his face still twisted in a sense of confusion and displeasure that told the pirate it was best not to question it. Walking past Meihem with eyeglass in hand, he stopped next to the edge where Niladriel stood. "We're goin' ta be passin' inno the city boundaries soon..keep a look out, will yeh?"He motioned to Meihem, who nodded in understanding and gathered himself to his feet.

A heavy sigh of relief told their "crew" she was just about finished with this nonsense. "Good..this is such a waste of my talents. Cloaking a ship..and here I thought this task would be challenging.." She huffed, tossing her head to flip back a mislaid vine that had escaped her tight bun.

"Don't be so sure, Niladriel..the task isn't completed yet.." Meihem noted, vision locked on the haze as they entered into a cloud of billowing red smoke. It stung his eyes, and held the most densely foul scent he'd ever encountered. Coughing, he tried waving at it to thin it but to no avail did it disperse, only to linger like a noxious fog. This is what the asura meant. A loud ringing shattered the silence as the mask hanging off Meihem's belt began to go off. Quickly taking it and examining it, he mashed every button he could find until the noise ceased. On the side of the mask read an indicator with a small blinking bar. It was already a quarter full, and in small digital print at the bottom read out "Lethality Level" with the top of the bar showing a decorative skull and crossbones. He had to give credit to the asura that he'd made something even a sylvari could understand without formal directions. So this was the miasma, and judging from the mask, it was only getting worse. He examined it once more before strapping it back to his belt, at which point he saw the fern hound bend down, placing both paws on its nose. He couldn't help but smile apologetically, bending down to ruffle the foliage covering the brute's body. "Oh come now, we won't be here long..I hope.." He could feel his hope sinking. The likelihood that they would find her, and if she were alive. _'No.'_ He barked at his subconscious, fighting back the doubt. She was alive. He _knew_ it.

As the ship sailed, the large bubble surrounding it began to warp and deform, blinking before dissipating completely. Niladriel had fallen over, gasping for air. The two men rushed over to her aid, at which she tried to shake it off. "No, no..I'm fine..I just–" She choked, freezing mid-sentence in a coughing fit. Meihem brought up the mask, placing it on her face while adjusting it around her head. He wasn't about to lose anyone on this journey.

"Breathe. In this." He demanded, trying to get her to stand upright once more. He steadied her, letting her lean on him for leverage. Her dark leaves had paled. This tainted air was taking a toll on her.

Niladriel looked between them both, shaking her head. The mask muffled the sound of her voice, but it was still audible. "Meihem, you need this."

"A simple 'thanks' would suffice.." He teased, watching as the female pulled away slowly. She'd looked upon him as if he'd lost his mind. Up until now, he was unsure if Niladriel had ever seen a kind gesture. Avoiding confrontation, he just smiled back at her.

Rock formations started popping up a few hundred feet out from the prow. A tall pillar materialized out of the haze. Meihem recognized it instantly as the lighthouse of Lion's Arch. All though, it had lost its guiding light and now stood as a giant stone torch as flames engulfed its tower. It was a shame to see it in such a state. They all witnessed it with a hint of distress. The lighthouse had always been a beacon of hope. For as long as the city stood, it weathered every storm. A respectful silence lingered as they sailed past.

"Look out!" The captain dodged to his right into a bundle of boxes as three orbs of flame shot out from the sky and collided with the deck, bursting into pillows of capacious fire. The sails lit up when touched, the hungry flames devouring each stitch in rapid succession. A roaring could be heard from the tiny island as more fireballs were hurled in their direction. Demitri jumped back to the wheel, throwing his vessel into a sharp left from Sanctum Harbor, towards the shores and cliffside. The had all scattered across the deck, trying to put out the fires as soon as they could. The pirate yanked the wheel, but for some reason, she wouldn't steer. It was headed at full speed into the cliffs. "Blast it!" Demitri snarled, jumping over onto the deck with the others. "We've lost her, we need ta gather our wares an' abandon–" A spear shot across the deck, impaling the young sylvari through his right shoulder and pinning him to the ship's ledge. He yelped in pain, the golden ooze dripping down from the wound and staining his rags.

"Demitri!" They yelled in unison, running over to him before he flung an arm out in protest. They stopped midway, staring at the creatures that came crawling up from the side of the ship. Krait, but a new type of krait. The toxic kind. Their recognition was trademarked by the acidic green glow of their bodies. The ship was being raided. More were pouring in, carrying spears and staves, all equipped with a set of highly poisonous fangs.

Wrenching the spear from his shoulder, Demitri got to his feet with haste. They were destroying his ship. He wasn't about to go down without a fight. Spear in hand, he chucked it as hard as he could at the closest one. With a screech it was impaled into the deck, and soon others were crawling to take its place. Trying to ignore the pain, he pulled the gun from his holster and unsheathed his rapier. Carefully and calmly, he raised his weapons in a defensive stance as he started backing towards his crew of two. "I wan' yeh both ta jump o'er the ledge now.." He whispered, the thought coming across clear as day with the circlets in place.

"Are you serious? You can't take them all on your own!" Niladriel growled back, fearful of what the pirate was implying. Shoving her worst fears into her face, they had backed themselves against one of the banisters of the ship with the krait closing in.

The pirate gave them both a grin, before gliding an arm across them. He shot Niladriel a quick wink. "I don' believe I was askin' yeh..Get off me ship!" The arm close-lined them, tilting them over the side and into the waters below. Striking glances with the hound, he rolled his eyes. "You too, mutt!" Grabbing him and chucking him off the side as well. A swift peek let him know they'd made it to the water safely. He then turned to face the monsters, weapons drawn. There was no where to run. Not for him. A good captain always went down with his vessel, at least that's what he'd been taught. Taking a few seconds to reflect back on his life before he left the Grove, he remembered what the mentors taught him about the Dream. About life, and how to breed goodwill even in the darkest of times. This being one of those times, he couldn't help but wonder now as he was looking death in the face. That maybe, despite him throwing away his heritage and the Pale Tree for a life of plundering and thievery, his soul would still return to the Dream. To _her_. Taking in a deep breath, he charged into the group, pulling out every trick in the book. With gun blazing and sword swinging, he fought hard on the surface. On the inside, however, a silent prayer was being sung to the Pale Tree. His death song. _'I've lived my life a selfish, naive weed, yet I've lived it fully..and have felt no better comfort than the warmth and happiness of the ones I called friends. If I shall die today, I'll have it known that even though I disregarded Ventari's teachings, I believe the only lasting peace is the peace within my own soul..' _

"To my love..I'm coming home.."

...


End file.
